


hold on now (i'm choking)

by redlight



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Just angst, M/M, No Plot, Pining, Plot What Plot, alfred is sad and angry at himself, also, but why, gratuitous angst, i am a self-indulgent piece of trash, i'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume mattie is too, no, no seriously why, presumably, there is no point, there isn't even any plot to this, what happened, whatsoever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 10:36:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2504756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlight/pseuds/redlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's wanted this. God, he's <em>wanted</em> this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hold on now (i'm choking)

**Author's Note:**

> why did i do this don't read this  
> title taken from Attracting Flies by AlunaGeorge

There's regret.

It's regret pounding against the edges of his mind, a slurred memory of lowly uttered words and darkened eyes in the back of his head, things Alfred doesn't wish to remember.

Matthew had already gotten dressed, used Alfred's bathroom, used his _toothbrush_ \- and there's something terribly intimate in that, something that makes Alfred's eyes blur and turns his heart to a weight in his stomach; it's worse than the taste of salt in his mouth right now, it's worse than the bruises on his neck and lips. It's something he can't put a name to, something that snakes into Alfred's mind and hisses its own thoughts like commands, coils itself around Alfred's throat and chokes him.

Matthew's standing at the door, not looking at him, and Alfred isn't sure what to say, if he should apologize, or maybe put some pants on. Matt's hair is disheveled, from Alfred dragging his fingers through it, and when he lifts his arm to scratch the back of his neck- a nervous habit Alfred's learnt to recognize years ago- when Matthew lifts his arm his shirt sleeve slips down and Alfred sees a trail of bites from his wrist to his elbow.

And maybe that's when it hits him, like a train curving and wrecking itself right on an interstate freeway, that he's just had sex with his best friend. And it's not what he ever expected it to be.

He's wanted this. God, he's _wanted_ this, but he's not happy. There's a sort of poison mixed with guilt and regret in Matthew's eyes, dark blue, purple, scared and frustrated and beautiful. Matthew looks painfully awkward, looks apprehensive, looks like he just doesn't know what to do.

He's chewing his lip- another nervous habit- and he sighs. Alfred flinches. It's- it's an exasperated sigh, and Alfred wants to fall to his knees and scream, apologize, _I'm so sorry I've loved you for the past three years and I'm so sorry I can't stop and I'm sorry we just can't be friends because you're killing me, Matthew Williams, you are destroying me one piece at the time and I'm sorrysorrysorry_ -

Alfred coughs, awkwardly, tiredly. He's just slept with his best friend. He's standing there in his boxers and he's just slept with his best friend, the best friend that's about to leave and possibly never talk to him again, because this is all just a _mistake_. A mistake, where they're both at fault, and they should just back away from it, avoid making it worse, avoid mentioning it ever again.

Matthew gives him a strained smile, polite and small. It's the kind Matt uses on strangers when he's uncomfortable, closed lips and tightly drawn lines on his mouth. It's nothing like what Alfred has grown used to seeing, Alfred is used to making Matthew smile and laugh, grinning up to his eyes, bright and happy.

Seeing that smile on Matthew's face, as though Alfred was a stranger, well. It hurts.

It _hurts_. It feels like that sad little smile just tore off entire chunks of Alfred's lungs.

"I,"Alfred _tries_ , he tries to say something, but his throat hurts and he feels like crying a bit, so it doesn't seem much like a good idea.

Matt looks away. "I guess I'll see you later, then." No, Alfred does not want to see him later, because they have to talk right now, because Matt needs to _sit the fuck down_ and _listen_ to what Alfred has to say, realize that Alfred Jones has been in love with Matthew Williams for the better part of their friendship. Matthew needs to stay because he needs to help Alfred deal with this, because as soon as Matt walks out that door, Al will turn into a sobbing wreck.

"I'll call you," Matthew says. He opens the door, leading out into the hallway, and glances back at Alfred, looks him directly in the eye and Alfred starts blinking, and he can't, he can _not_ let Matt see him cry-

"I'll call you," Matt says, more firmly this time. "And. And the rule's the same, you can call for, for _whatever_ , okay. I don't mind."

Alfred adverts his eyes (staring at Matthew's eyes started to become painful now, like a screwdriver slowly burying itself into Alfred's heart) and forces himself to say, "Yeah, right. See you."

And Matthew smiles a little more genuine, a little more sad, and he turns and shuts the door behind him. Alfred locks it.

His vision is blurred, and the tears come fast. Alfred slides down the door, a sob ripped from his throat, and he cries.


End file.
